


Negative

by Gebo



Series: The 'Verse That Killed Charlie [1]
Category: Bobby Squared - Fandom, Dead Fish (2005), Trainspotting (1996)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Swearing, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gebo/pseuds/Gebo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it hurts less to share the same fate as the one you love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negative

The day Danny’s test results came back was bittersweet.

He sat in the driver seat of the Volkswagen with the engine idling for a good fifteen minutes before he could really comprehend the words on the piece of paper that had arrived in the post. He clutched his mobile phone in his hand, thumb hovering over the speed dial. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what he had fucking expected. He glanced at the results again.

_NEGATIVE_

That was what the sheet said, in big official looking courier type. Danny was surprised they hadn’t sent him a fucking gift card, with balloons and a fucking bouquet of flowers. He felt sure the paper in his hand ought to have read, “Congratulations!” or, “We’re pleased to inform you…,” but all it said was  _NEGATIVE_.

It didn’t seem like much of a fucking good thing to Danny. When he had first read the result, an enormous wave of relief had washed over him. He was clean. He didn’t have HIV. He had been fucking surprised, actually. He had expected the test to come back positive.

As he had thought about it though, as he sat there with his phone in his hand, Danny had realized what this result really meant. It wasn’t his freedom. It was his torture.

His hands were shaking as he set the paper on the passenger seat and dialled Francis Begbie.

“Begbie.” It was the usual gruff manner Frank had taken to when answering his mobile. Danny had tried for years to get him to check the caller ID before answering, but he never would. He liked the surprise, he said. Danny had rolled his eyes and given up.

“It’s me,” Danny managed before he choked.

“Devine, where the fuck huv ye been?!” Begbie snapped.  Danny was silent for a second, not sure what to say.

“Had to go out for the post. Frank… We need to fuckin’ talk,” he finally managed. He couldn’t say it over the phone. He couldn’t fucking do that to him. He wouldn’t. “Can ya come to my flat later? When you’re… done doing whatever you fucking do.”

There was a pause from Franco on the other end and then, “Ah’ll be there in ten.” The called ended and Danny threw his mobile across the cab onto the opposite seat.

There wasn’t going to be anything easy about this. Since Begbie’s test results had turned up two weeks ago reading, _POSITIVE_ , the two had carried out life with a silent and delicate understanding between them. If one was positive, they were likely both positive. Danny had been tested about a year before he had ever met Begbie, and after seven years of what between them could only pass for dating, it had seemed inevitable that he would have caught it. Begbie had likely gotten the virus from some sick fuck in prison, but had never bothered to check. Until now.

So they had continued on, taking precautions, but no more than were usual. Danny ran his tongue over that cut on his lower lip where Begbie had bitten him a few days ago. He hadn’t worried about catching the virus after Begbie tested positive. In fact, he admitted to himself, he had almost fucking hoped he would catch it. Danny had dealt with the deaths of everyone he had loved. His father and brother had passed when he was just a wee lad and his mother just a few years ago. He wasn’t fond of loss, and he wasn’t fond of attachment. That was what made Begbie so hard to handle. Begbie had never given him a choice whether or not to love him, and that had been Danny’s downfall.

Begbie was already inside his flat when Danny arrived. He was lingering by the door and the moment Danny stepped in he grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the sofa.

“Whit the fuck’s gaun oan?” Begbie asked, and nearly pulled Danny into his lap in his urgency to take a seat. Danny shifted into a more comfortable position. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the slip of paper. “Whit’s that?!” Begbie made a grab for it, but Danny was too quick for him.

“Fucking sit down, ya loser,” Danny snapped. He unfolded the paper and as the words became visible, his hands once again began to shake. _That_ word.  _NEGATIVE_. “I went in a couple of days ago and got tested.” His words were slow and he stared at the paper to avoid Begbie hard gaze. He felt Begbie go tense.

“Yer no… no positive?” he asked. “Are ye?” Danny could only shake his head and hand over the results. Begbie took them and Danny looked up to see him mouth the word “negative.” He held his breath, waiting for Begbie’s reaction. Would he be angry that he had been meted this fate and Danny hadn’t? There was a brief moment when Danny thought of the not-impossible scenario where Begbie would decide Danny deserved that virus as much as he and would infect him purposefully. Danny’s mind raced with the possible responses to the news, but then Begbie let out a long breath. His shoulders slumped and he looked up at Danny with one of those truly honest expressions he was rewarded with every so often.

“Ah’m glad yer no sick,” was all he said before he handed the paper back and stood up. “Ah need a wee fucking pint. Ye comin?”

Danny stared at him like a madman. Begbie was years, if not months, away from horrible, degrading death. Danny, for the first time in his adult life, felt as if he wanted to cry. They ought to spend the evening in, together, talking, figuring everything out. Yet there was Frank reaching out a hand for Danny’s, and Danny took it and stood up, and even though Frank dropped it before they stepped outside, it made Danny’s heart a little stronger.

Still, as he sipped his pint and watched Begbie shouting at the match on the telly, he couldn’t help noticing that feeling of loneliness lurking in his future.


End file.
